To All the People Who Followed Their Dreams and Got F'ing Nowhere

Year after year, they show up in my class, the kids who want to be a professional athlete and think college is the way to do it. They aren’t here on scholarship and were not recruited for the team. But still, it’s all they talk about. One day, they will hit the big time.

These are the easy ones to spot because I know their chances. The NCAA tries to warn them, explains that just over 1% of college athletes go pro. The point of college is an education, not a road to a major league stadium, but even still, they believe. They have to. How else will they get there?

The other failed dreams are harder to see. Maybe the kid who wants to be an wealthy entrepreneur, taking her boat on Lake Erie on a Tuesday because she’s the boss and can do whatever she wants, maybe she’ll make it. The one who says he’s just here to get his grades up and then he’s going to OSU like both his parents and his sister. He shakes his head when I turn back his paper. “This is bullshit.” Maybe in next fall, he’ll be there.

Last year, Steve Harvey came to our school. He told the students they should not have a plan B. Plan B means you think plan A won’t work. And that means you’re setting yourself up to fail. He never had a plan B and look where it got him. He assures them it’s not easy; they will work harder than they ever imagined, but it’s possible.

I don’t know what to say about hopes and dreams, about lofty goals and outliers. But what about the rest of us? Can we be happy when we realize, finally at 27, 34, 48, that this is, in fact, it? This house with the creaky floors is as good as it gets. This job with the boss who takes all the credit is as good as it gets. Singing softly in the grocery store aisle is only chance for a public performance.

We didn’t have a plan B. Plan B’s are created, they find us. They whisper in our ear, “Take a break. Follow me…” Plan B takes our hand, sits us down in a folding lawn chair. “This is better, yes?” passing us a plate of ribs with hot potato salad on the side. The tea is cold and sweet.

All our life we have been told not to give up, to follow our dreams. We can be whatever we want to be. Have I given up? Gotten nowhere? This is a life I did not imagine. No one I know is living their childhood dreams. We get together on the weekends, showing up with bottles of wine and plates of stuffed mushrooms. Bowls of olives. Everything led right up to this moment.